


Release the Bats

by Sena



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Vampires, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sena/pseuds/Sena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, Mikey's a vampire, but Ray's okay with that.  He's still Mikey, after all, still Ray's friend, still dorky and sweet and funny and amazing and, yeah.  Maybe Ray likes him as more than just a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release the Bats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarkydame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkydame/gifts).



They're at a party at the Eyeball house the night Ray finds out. They've just played their first show after recording the album and so many people want to buy it that Frank can't handle the merch table by himself. Ray helps out and people are, like, shy coming up to him. Like he's somebody important. It's so weird.

When they pack up afterwards, they've only got six CDs left, and so few t-shirts that they all fit into one box. Ray says, "Wow."

Frank says, "I fucking know, right? Did those bastards wait for us?"

Ray looks over at Frank with a raised eyebrow.

Frank says, "Right. Stupid question. Fuckers. Just for that, we're taking a cut off the top."

Ray's about to object, to say that's not fair, but all Frank means is that he's going to use cash from the tip jar to pay for a cab to take them to the afterparty. They use the office at the far end of the Eyeball house to count the rest of the money and Frank shows Ray how to write everything down in a ledger, including the cab ride.

"Trust me," Frank says. "Nothing fucks people up more than money, and the easiest way to avoid all that bullshit is to just account for everything."

Ray believes him. He's never been in a band that's actually made money before, so it's nice to learn a neat an orderly system like Frank's. Once they're through and the money's locked away in Alex's safe for the night, Frank goes off to find Jamia and Ray goes to make sure the van is secure. They've never left it unlocked before, but they have so much gear -- and Gerard, Mikey, and Otter can all be so absentminded -- that it's better safe than sorry.

What he finds in the alley out back is a locked van, and he's about to head back inside when he hears Gerard saying, "Can you just say here? Can you just stay here until I get back?"

"No," Mikey says from the other side of the van. His voice is rough.

Ray heads around the back of the van slowly and sees Mikey sitting on the ground with his back against a tire, curled in on himself with his knees pulled up. He's shaking.

"Twenty minutes," Gerard says. "I can find you something in, like, twenty minutes, I swear." He's squatting down in front of Mikey and he loses his balance, wobbles and falls onto his ass. "Whoa," he says with a soft laugh. "Okay. Spinning. But not, like. I'm okay. I can go and find, but, okay. Just do this for now." He starts rolling up one of his sleeves.

"I drank from you yesterday," Mikey whispers.

"So?"

"So why do you think you're so fucking drunk right now? I can't stay. I need to go home. You have to get me home. Call Mom."

"She's going to kill us if she finds out you didn't eat before the show."

"And I'm going to actually kill someone if I wait much longer."

Ray has no idea what's going on, but he steps around the side of the van anyway and says, "Do you guys need help?" Gerard seems fine, but there's obviously something wrong with Mikey.

Gerard beams at him and struggles to his feet. He says, "Ray! Oh, my God, you're, like, the best friend in the entire world." He stumbles forward, and he's so drunk that he slams into Ray and almost knocks him over with his hug. "You're awesome, you're so fucking awesome. See, Mikey? Everything's going to be fine."

Mikey's holding his head in his hands and his breath is coming in sharp pants. He says, "I can't."

"No, it's okay. I'm here," Gerard says, tugging Ray down onto his knees. "I'm here and if you lose control, I'll just hit you with something."

Ray says, "What?"

"Bad idea," Mikey whispers.

"He offered, Mikes. Because he's your friend. And you should accept help from friends. It's, like, a good thing to do, accepting help when you need it."

Ray says, "What did I just offer to do?" but he doesn't get an answer before Mikey tackles him down onto his back and, fuck, he's strong. He's strong and he's fast and Ray feels the pain in his wrist before he realizes what's happening, that Mikey's holding onto his right arm so tightly because he's biting it.

Mikey's kneeling over him, leaning down, mouth latched onto Ray's wrist, and Ray can't see his face. It's dark in the alley and Mikey's head is turned so all Ray can see is the top of his head and one corner of his jaw and the long, pale line of Mikey's neck.

The pain only lasts a few seconds and then it's gone, replaced by a dull tingling where Mikey's fangs have pierced the skin. Ray watches in quiet fascination as Mikey pulls back for a moment, licks his lips and, hey, he's got _fangs_. Then he licks the blood trickling from the puncture wounds on Ray's wrist before placing his mouth over them again so he can suck at Ray's blood.

Ray means to cry out or object or scream or something, but he doesn't. A thick wave of calm washes over him and he just watches as Mikey drinks his blood. He feels content, happy, and he thinks maybe this is what being Zen feels like. Ray's never been Zen in his entire life.

After a minute, Gerard says, "Enough, Mikes."

Mikey whimpers and sucks harder.

"I mean it. Don't think I won't hit you over the head with a brick again if I have to."

Mikey stops sucking Ray's blood. He takes a deep breath and there's blood on his lips that he licks away. Then he laps slowly at the puncture wounds on Ray's wrist and Ray thinks at first he's just licking up more blood, but no, he's sealing them. Each of the four wounds stops bleeding as Mikey laps at them. His tongue is soft and hot and Ray can't help but hum happily at how nice it feels.

Mikey sits up and whispers, "Sorry."

Ray says, "You're a vampire."

Mikey nods.

"You're, like. A real vampire. With fangs. I saw them."

"Yeah."

"How come I'm not freaking out right now?"

"Venom," Mikey whispers, looking away from him. "The bite, it carries venom. It's a sedative."

Ray says, "You could market this shit. Fuck. I'm so fucking Zen right now." He looks over at Gerard and smiles happily. "In this moment I'm, like, completely happy."

Gerard stretches out next to him on the gravel and says, "I know, right?"

"I'm so sorry, Ray," Mikey says. "Tomorrow when it wears off, just know that I'm really fucking sorry."

Gerard says, "Wait, Mikey, don't--" but Mikey's gone. Gerard sighs. Then he says, "You should drink a lot of water to get your blood volume back up. And have a cookie. Do you want me to go get you a cookie?"

Ray sits up and says, "Let's both get cookies."

It's a great party. It's the best party Ray's ever been to. Ray likes everyone there and every song is fucking awesome and though they don't find cookies, they do help themselves to some of the best red licorice Ray's ever had in his entire life. He hugs Frank hard when he comes over, hugs him and says, "I love you so much, Frankie. Like, the love and respect I have for you is infinite."

Frank laughs and says, "What the fuck did you take?"

"You don't even want to know. But I mean it. You're not just a great guitar player, you're a great man. I know that honor and loyalty and strength of character aren't things people really talk about anymore, but you've fucking got them all and everybody sees it, even if they don't tell you."

Frank seems startled but pleased, and he says, "Thank you," and hugs Ray back tight.

When Ray wakes up, his state of Zen is gone. He just feels like normal Ray again, not in love with the world and content with every breath he takes. It's kind of depressing. He sits up in bed and rubs the four tiny marks on the inside of his right wrist.

Mikey's a vampire. He thinks about that for a while, wonders if Mikey's been a vampire the entire time Ray's known him or if he'd been turned some time in the past few years. Either way, he's obviously not evil. You couldn't think Mikey was evil if you hung out with him for more than a couple of hours. He obviously still has a soul. He obviously doesn't just go around killing people or he wouldn't have been worried about where to get blood from the night before. And he'd apologized after drinking from Ray, apologized and looked like he'd expected Ray to hate him.

Ray doesn't hate him. He can't hate him; he's _Mikey_. He picks up the phone, and when Mikey doesn't answer, he leaves a message. "Hey, it's Ray. I just called to talk about last night. I want you to know that I'm not freaked out and I'm not mad at you, all right? I just want you to know that we're still friends. I'll see you tomorrow at rehearsal, okay?"

And that's that. Mikey's still Mikey, still gangly and socially awkward and the coolest kid in the room no matter where he goes. He's still gentle and sarcastic and the same guy Ray's always known. He just happens to also be a vampire.

After a couple of weeks, Ray doesn't even think about it any more. It takes a little longer for Mikey to get used to Ray knowing, but eventually he's okay with it, too, especially since Ray always remembers to bring a bag of blood along whenever they play a gig. Mikey's stage fright isn't helped at all by the crush of bodies in the crowd, which Mikey's instincts read as food, not to mention the way the stage lights practically blind him. Playing shows stresses Mikey out, and when Mikey's stressed out, he gets hungry.

Ray thinks that bringing a spare bag of blood along would be something neither Mikey nor Gerard could forget, but they both do more often than not. After the second time Ray has to drive Mikey home at the speed of light before he eats somebody, he just starts being the one to make sure the extra blood's packed.

When they go on tour, Ray's the one to make sure the medical grade cooler is always stocked up and packed with ice. He's maybe a little too attentive when it comes to the cooler, because Frank gets curious. Frank gets curious and when they're parked at a rest stop to sleep, Frank sneaks back to the cooler to see what's inside. Ray wakes up to Frank shouting, "What the actual fuck? Is this fucking blood?"

Ray sits up and sees Frank holding one of the blood bags up for Gerard to see. "Ray's got a fucking cooler full of blood," he says.

Gerard sighs and rubs his hands over his face. Otter's still snoring. Mikey says, "Don't freak out, okay? It's not Ray's blood. It's mine."

Frank looks at Mikey, then at the blood, then back to Mikey. "What? For, like, transfusions or something?"

Mikey says, "Sort of."

Frank doesn't take it as calmly as Ray had. Frank's half a mile down the interstate with his thumb out for a ride when they catch up to him in the van.

"Get in the van, asshole," Gerard says through the rolled down window.

"Fuck you," Frank snaps. "Fuck you and your blood sucking brother. I am not a fucking moveable feast, okay?"

"Which is what the blood bags are for," Gerard says. "Just get in the fucking van and we'll talk about it."

"He's not biting me," says Frank. "Those fangs are fucking vicious and I don't want them anywhere near my goddamn neck."

"He doesn't bite people," Gerard says. "All his blood's ethically sourced, okay?"

Frank crosses his arms over his chest.

"No people or animals get murdered in the name of his dinner," Gerard tells him. "He's practically a vegetarian."

Frank tries to frown, but Ray sees the moment he cracks and starts to laugh. He says, "What the fuck?"

Gerard says, "Get in the van, motherfucker. You're going to get picked up by a serial killer if you try to hitchhike. Jesus."

Frank gets in the van and Ray drives. Mikey sits in the passenger seat with his long legs pulled up to his chest and Frank and Gerard sit behind them, talking. Frank has all the same questions Ray'd had, and just like with Ray, Gerard answers them while Mikey stays silent.

Yes, Mikey knows other vampires. No, he can't fly or turn into a bat. Pretty much every blood bank in every city will supply blood to vampires. Yes, it has to be human blood. No, he's not immortal; he ages, he just does so very slowly. 

Ray reaches out and ruffles Mikey's hair. Mikey looks over at him, slightly annoyed but like he appreciates the contact for the reassuring gesture it was meant to be.

Ray's still driving a few hours later when Mikey says, "It'll be dawn soon."

"Do you always known when the sun's coming?" Ray asks softly.

"Yeah."

The sun won't kill Mikey, but he still hates it. He says it stings his bare skin, like pins and needles at first, but then like actual needles if he's out in it long enough. Sunscreen helps, keeps it at the pins and needles stage, but being in the sun is always unpleasant. It also makes him virtually blind, and even the darkest sunglasses only help a little bit. He's got blackout contacts he wears if he ever needs to do anything more than stumble from one place to another in the daylight. They make his entire iris look black, which is eerie, and Mikey says they hurt, but it's better than not being able to see.

Mikey puts on his sunglasses and tugs up his hood in preparation for dawn, and Ray pulls over to the side of the road. "Get in the back," he says.

Mikey curls up in the passenger seat, hands pulled into the sleeves of his hoodie to protect them, and says, "I'm fine."

"Otter," says Ray, tossing an old fast food bag at him. "Your turn to drive."

Otter grumbles sleepily, but he gets up and heads out to piss by the side of the van before climbing into the driver's seat.

Ray takes the passenger seat and Mikey climbs into the far back where he drapes a blanket over the seats like a fort and curls up in the relative darkness beneath. Ray wonders how expensive it would be to get clear UV coating on the van windows.

"Frank finally figured it out?" Otter asks around a yawn as he pulls back onto the highway.

Ray nods.

"Think we should tell him that shit won't help?"

Ray glances back to where Frank's asleep, slumped against Gerard, rosary held loosely in his right hand. He says, "Nah, it'll make him feel better until he gets used to it, and it's not like it'll do Mikey any harm."

Frank gets used to it in the way Frank gets used to everything, by doing research on the subject until he feels like he understands it completely. They don't have access to libraries, though, and even if they did, there aren't any books about what vampires are really like, so Frank's research consists of constant questions.

They're in a diner and about to start eating when Frank says, "So, wait, are you _actually_ eating pancakes right now or are you just pretending to eat pancakes?"

Mikey shoves a huge bite of pancakes into his mouth and says, "What do you think?"

"Can you digest them or do you have to, like, puke them up later?"

"Gross," Gerard says. "You're fucking gross, Frank."

"What?" Frank asks. "It's a valid question!"

Gerard and Frank start bickering about what does and doesn't count as appropriate dinner conversation and Mikey sets his fork down on his plate and sighs. He hunches his shoulders in and tips his head down and Ray doesn't think about it before he reaches out to take Mikey's hand. He squeezes it gently and whispers, "It's okay."

"Can you just let me out?" Mikey asks.

"You don't have to--"

"I just want to go. Let me out."

Ray slides out of the booth to let Mikey out, then sits back down, kicks Frank under the table, and says, "Great job, asshole."

Frank says, "What? He didn't leave because of me, did he?"

"No, he left because somebody else was making him feel self conscious," Ray snaps. "And don't think he hasn’t fucking noticed the crucifix you've started wearing or that rosary always in your goddamn pocket."

Frank gestures and starts to speak but doesn't get any actual words out before he sighs and slumps back in the booth.

"If he's not going to eat his pancakes, I will," Otter says.

Ray says, "Fuck you," and flags down the waitress to ask her to box up his omelet and Mikey's pancakes to go.

"I don't mean to be an asshole," Frank says softly as Ray scoops his food into the Styrofoam container the waitress had brought for him. "I'm just curious, okay? I've never met a fucking," he pauses, "person like him before. I didn't even know it was real, and now it is, and shit occurs to me and I just ask because, like, who better to get information from than the actual source?"

"It was kind of fucked up yesterday when you asked him if his dick still got hard," Gerard says softly.

"Because in the literature, a lot of them can't get hard!" Frank cries.

"Mikey's dick can't get hard?" Otter asks, eyes going wide.

"Mikey's dick is fine," Ray tells him. He only knows that because he'd been there when Frank had asked and he'd seen Mikey roll his eyes and reply that his junk was all in working order, thanks. It wasn't even something he'd known he'd care about, but he'd felt a definite sense of relief.

Ray leaves the three of them bickering about what kinds of questions are too personal to ask even your closest friends and heads outside to find Mikey.

Mikey's sitting on the far side of the trailer, back against one of the tires, gazing up at the night sky.

"Brought you your dinner," Ray says softly, holding out one of the Styrofoam containers.

"That's actually your omelet," Mikey says.

Ray looks down at the containers in his hands and grins when he realizes Mikey can smell the difference. "Fine," he says. "Then this one's your dinner."

Mikey takes it from him but doesn't open it until Ray's sitting next to him and halfway through with his meal.

"There's no reason for me to actually eat this," Mikey says softly, opening his container and picking at a piece of pancake with his fingers.

Ray rolls his eyes and chews and swallows before he says, "Oh, please, you fucking love pancakes."

"Yeah, but I don't need them. They don't do anything for me. I could live just fine without ever eating them, without eating anything."

Ray says, "So?"

"So maybe it would be better if I stopped pretending. Maybe Frank has a point."

"Frank's only point is that he's curious as hell. He doesn't judge you for it."

Mikey looks sidelong at him.

"Fine, he's still freaked out, but he's not pulling away from you. He's just asking a lot of really annoying questions because he wants to know everything there is to know about everything. He came over for dinner one night and ended up listening to my mom talk about growing up in the Lower East Side during the 50s for hours, man. She told him stories I'd never heard before just because he was interested and kept asking questions."

Mikey shrugs and eats his pancakes with his fingers. "But maybe I should give up things that are unnecessary. Maybe I need to just accept that I'm not human anymore."

Ray doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't know what Mikey's going through or how he feels about not being human and he's not sure how to ask without hurting Mikey more. He says, "Music is unnecessary."

Mikey says, "Bullshit."

"I mean it. It's amazing. It's...fuck. I don't even have to tell you what it does, how it makes you feel, how fucking essential it seems, but it's not. People can live without music, even you and me. I don't want to, but I could. Should I live without it just because it's unnecessary for my survival?"

Mikey says, "The idea of life without music is fucking grim, dude."

Ray thinks about it for a little bit, then shakes his head because it's almost too much to bear. He says, "Eat your fucking pancakes. Eat whatever the fuck you want."

Mikey nods and almost smiles a little bit as he says, "Yeah, okay."

When they're finished with their dinner, Mikey takes the containers and gets up to throw them away. Ray's eyes have adjusted to the night, but it's still so dark he can barely see across the parking lot. He can't see the trash can that Mikey walks to until he squints, and then it's only because he knows it's there.

Neither one of them really smokes, but Mikey lights a cigarette to share when he gets back. They're silent for a while, until Ray says, "What can you see?" Then he says, "I don't. You don't have to tell me. I just realized how easily you moved in the dark to throw that stuff away, realized how well you can probably see."

Mikey takes the cigarette from Ray's hand and says, "No, it's okay. It's the first thing I noticed, actually, after. I stood up and I didn't know what had happened, but I knew I was changed because even though the night was dark, the world wasn't. I could see everything around me and the colors were so fucking vivid."

"You don't just see things in black and gray?"

Mikey shakes his head. "I can see everything, colors I couldn't see before. I can see heat."

"Like an infrared camera?"

"Sort of. And the fucking sky, Ray. When you look up, what do you see?"

Ray looks up and says, "Stars. I don't know their names or anything. I think that's the big dipper. What do you see?"

"The sky itself is more violet than black, and the stars glow every color you can imagine, from white to orange to bright fucking blue, and most of them are surrounded by clouds that flash and sparkle."

Ray gazes up at the sky and tries to imagine it. "Are you seeing the gamma rays or something?"

Mikey shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe."

Ray says, "That's fucking awesome."

They gaze up at the sky until they hear the guys heading their way.

"You guys out here sucking each other's dicks or what?" Otter asks.

"Nah," Mikey says as he stands, "just some heavy petting."

Frank stops when he sees Mikey and rubs the back of his neck. He sighs and says, "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole lately."

Mikey shrugs and says, "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is. I'm treating you like a research project instead of a friend, and it's fucked up. I'm sorry." He hugs Mikey tight against him, then jerks back and says, "Oh, fuck, I'm wearing a fucking--"

Mikey laughs and takes Frank's crucifix in his hand, lifts it to tap against Frank's chin. "I'm not a demon, asshole. This thing isn't going to hurt me."

Frank looks down at his feet, embarrassed, and says, "Oh."

Mikey hugs him again, then laughs when Gerard wraps his arms around Frank from the other side.

"Group hug, motherfuckers," Gerard says.

Ray knows perfectly well that Gerard won't take no for an answer when he's in the mood for a group hug, so he wraps his arms around Mikey's shoulders and ruffles Frank's hair. Otter doesn't even grumble, just hugs them all willingly, even though he is the first to let go.

Ray doesn't want to let go. He's pressed up against Mikey's back and it feels good to hold him. He likes the smell of Mikey's skin and he kind of wants to nuzzle against the back of Mikey's neck and, yeah, okay. Ray lets go and steps back and doesn't make eye contact with anybody as he climbs into the van.

Ray hasn't dated a lot. Partly it's because nobody wanted him in high school and partly it's because once people started to want to date him, he found out he was really fucking picky. It's nothing he does consciously, he just isn't attracted to most people he meets. When he is attracted, though? That's it for him, game over. Because Ray doesn't get crushes, Ray falls in love.

Ray crawls into the far back seat and thinks, "Goddamnit." Then he thinks maybe it's a fluke. Maybe he's not falling in love with Mikey. Maybe it's just physical because Mikey is a good-looking guy and Ray hasn't been with anyone in a long time and maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he just needs to be touched. Maybe when they get back to New Jersey he can call up an ex or...something.

Ray doesn't actually have a lot of exes, and only one of them is a guy, and he doesn't particularly feel like hooking up with any of them again.

He tries to enjoy having an entire seat to stretch out on by himself, but he can't turn his brain off. He thinks about how willing he'd been to be the one to drive Mikey to get blood when he forgot it, to be the one to just take charge and keep the cooler stocked so that Mikey never went hungry. He would have done it for any of his friends, sure, but he would have bitched a lot more. If it had been Gerard or Frank or Otter, Ray would have spent weeks nagging them before giving in and doing it himself, and even then he would have grumbled about it and tried to make them feel guilty. With Mikey, it had just seemed like the right thing to do. Ray had just figured out where they could get blood on the road and how to store it and how much Mikey'd need every day, and it he'd been happy to do it. He could call it friendship, but he knows himself, knows that doing things for other people is one of the ways he shows love.

He thinks about the thrill he gets on stage when things are going well, when they're killing it and Otter's on and Gerard's driving the crowd wild and Frank's losing his fucking shit and kicking over mic stands and dropping to his knees. He thinks about the joy that fills him every time and the way he can't stop the smile that breaks across his face when it hits him once again that he gets to do this, that he gets paid to play music with his friends. He thinks about looking back and being able to catch Mikey's eye when he's looking up, thinks about how he feels when even through Mikey's stage fright and discomfort beneath the lights, he gives Ray a small smile back. Getting that smile feels even better than the rest of it. Ray's so fucking screwed.

After their show in Norfolk, they end up in a fucking mansion on the beach. Usually when somebody at the show lets them crash, they sleep on the floor in a cramped apartment. Sometimes they get a couch or an air mattress if they're lucky. This is the first time they've ever ended up someplace so fucking huge that they've each got their own room.

"It's cool," the guy says when he sees their hesitation. "My folks are in St. Thomas for the winter."

"Of course they are," Frank mutters, but he doesn't say anything else. It's kind of hard to hate rich people when they're offering to feed you and letting you crash for free.

They watch all the _Alien_ movies on the biggest TV Ray's ever seen, complete with surround sound. He and Frank and Otter take turns switching around the laundry and even Gerard and Mikey shower and change into clean clothes. Old habits die hard though, because despite the fact that the house has something like ten bedrooms, Otter falls asleep on one couch, Gerard falls asleep on the other, and Frank passes out curled up on the loveseat.

Ray pushes himself out of the recliner he'd been dozing in and yawns and stretches on his way to the hallway where all the bedrooms are. Then he stops and backtracks and goes into the kitchen, where Mikey's sitting alone at the table, drinking out of a blood bag with a straw.

"Were you hungry this whole time?" Ray asks.

Mikey shakes his head. "You saw me eat after the show."

"Yeah, but you didn't drink the whole thing and--"

"I'm fine," Mikey snarls. "I'm not going to snap and start feeding on people, okay?"

"I know that," Ray says. "I'm not worried about that."

"You seem like it."

"I'm worried about you. I'm worried that you were hungry this whole time and you didn't say anything because you didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"It's not a big deal," Mikey says. "I just wanted to wait until everybody was asleep to heat it up, that's all."

"You said you don't mind it cold."

"I don't. I mean, it's gross, but it won't kill me or anything. It's like eating cold macaroni and cheese."

Ray wrinkles his nose. "That's disgusting. I've been making you eat cold macaroni and cheese this whole time?"

"What am I supposed to do? Heat it up in a gas station microwave?"

Mikey has a point. Ray sighs and tries to figure out how he can warm Mikey's blood before he drinks it. Maybe they can get a camp stove or something.

"Are you going to stare at me or are you going to let me eat?" Mikey asks.

Ray turns around to give Mikey privacy. It doesn't bother him to see Mikey feed, but he knows it makes Mikey uncomfortable.

"What if we, like, set it out before the show?" Ray asks. "Then it would be room temperature, at least."

Mikey comes to the bottom of the bag with a slurp, then says, "I don't know. Some of it's already pretty stale. If we let it sit out, it could go bad and then I wouldn't have anything to eat."

Ray turns around and says, "It's _stale_?"

"It's fine," Mikey says, folding the empty bag up and tucking it halfway down in the trash. "It's already treated with shit to keep it from separating, so it's not like it's ever really delicious, and stale's way better than rotten, anyway."

"Wait, so it's always gross?"

"Not gross, really," Mikey says. "Or, well, not so gross I can't handle it."

"What about when it's fresh?"

Mikey shrugs. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Yes, it matters. How much do you think you'd need? Like, do you need less if it's fresh? Is it more nutritious? Because between me and Gerard, and maybe even Frank and Otter if they--"

"No," Mikey says firmly.

"Just think about it. It makes sense, okay?"

Mikey says, "No," again, then he's up and gone, out the back door so quickly that Ray doesn't even see him go.

Ray says, "Damnit," and follows Mikey outside, even though he knows Mikey can move so fast when he wants to that he could already be half a mile away. Ray steps outside and lets the door to the kitchen close behind him and then he doesn't move because it's so dark, he can't see a foot in front of him. "Mikey?" he asks, holding his hands out and taking a tentative step forward.

"The porch railing's about five feet ahead of you," Mikey says from somewhere below him. "Once you hit it, go to your right a couple more feet and you'll be at the steps."

Ray moves slowly. He trusts Mikey, but it's still hard to make himself walk when he can't see a thing. He finds the railing with his hands and steps sideways until he feels the railing turn into a banister.

"Eight steps down, then you'll be on sand."

Ray nods and holds onto the banister and counts his steps. When he steps onto the beach, Mikey takes his hand and says, "There's nothing in front of us. Just walk forward."

Ray's eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, but he still can't see anything more than Mikey's outline against the sky. "Thought you'd be halfway to Virginia Beach by now," he says as Mikey leads him forward.

"That shit's fucking exhausting," Mikey says. "We can sit down here."

Ray sits and listens to the sound of the waves, the sound of Mikey's breath. "You're breathing hard."

"Told you, moving that fast's exhausting."

"But you breathe. It's not just out of habit. You have to."

Mikey says, "Duh."

Ray wants to ask so many questions that he'd never had before. He'd just assumed that the packaged blood was fine. He'd just assumed that Mikey was dead, that he only looked like he was breathing to fit in with humans. There's so much he's been wrong about and so much he wants to know, but he doesn't ask.

"It was my nineteenth birthday," Mikey says softly, his voice barely audible above the waves. "One of my friends threw this huge fucking party and I was so wasted. I could barely walk and I had this yellow paper crown on my head and I was just laughing and dancing and making out with everybody, falling over and drinking more, totally fucked up. There was this guy. I'd never met him before but he was really hot. He looked like he was in his thirties, and that was a thing I was into at the time. Older guys. I thought he was going to take me home, but he just took me outside. In the alley behind my friend's house, he pushed me up against the fence and I thought we were going to fuck, but he bit me. Everything gets really fuzzy after that. Even the shit I can remember doesn't seem real because I was so drunk to start with and then I had all that fucking venom in my system and then, you know, blood loss. He drained me and he left me there and I don't know why I didn't die. I don't know why I woke up under my friend's porch the next night. Maybe I crawled there. I don't know. I just know that I woke up like this."

Ray reaches out and takes Mikey's hand in his.

"I was starving and all I wanted to do was get home. I had this idea that if I could get home, that Gerard would know what to do, that he could fix it. It was late, past midnight, and I was walking and not paying attention, and this guy stepped out of the shadows with a knife and told me to give him all my money."

Ray knows where the story's going, but he doesn't say anything. He just squeezes Mikey's hand and waits.

"I drank until his heart stopped. I think I could have pulled away before that, when he was still alive, but I didn't. I don't know if he would have died anyway or if he would have ended up like me, but either way, I didn't stop until I'd killed him."

"It's not your fault," Ray says quickly.

"Gee's told me that a thousand times, and I get what you mean, but it's not true. I didn't go out looking to commit murder, but I killed him just the same."

"Mikey," he whispers, turning towards him. He touches Mikey's face and thinks about much he wants to kiss him.

"Why doesn't that freak you out?" Mikey asks softly. "I could kill you."

"But you won't."

"How do you know? The first week, before the other vampires found me and taught me how to get blood from hospitals and the Red Cross, I fed off my family. I fed off the people who loved me and sometimes I couldn't stop, the hunger was so strong. Gerard had to bash me in the head with a brick once."

Ray tips his head against Mikey's shoulder and starts to laugh.

"It's not funny."

"You had a family meeting, didn't you?" Ray asks. "You had a Way family meeting to discuss how to handle the fact that you came home a vampire."

"Well, yeah," Mikey says.

Ray tips his head back and laughs until tears start to leak from his eyes. He has to fall back into the sand and gasp for breath, and even then he doesn't stop for a long time.

"Did your mind just crack?" Mikey asks conversationally from where he's stretched out on the beach next to Ray. "Should we drop you off at the loony bin on the way to the next show?"

"You had a family meeting," Ray says. He's stopped laughing but still he can't catch his breath. "You just fucking. Sat down and discussed how you were going to handle the fact that one of you was a fucking vampire. Like, it was probably all logical and shit. Gerard had on his fucking serious face and your grandma made a list of the most important points on one of her rose-scented notepads and your mother hugged you a lot and your dad made sure you knew that they'd always love and support you."

"My family maybe isn't the most normal family," Mikey admits. "They're fucking rad, though."

Ray nods and says, "Yeah," because they are.

They lie there in comfortable silence for a while. It's cold out, but it's well above freezing and while Ray knows he'll have to head in eventually, he's fine for the moment. Then Mikey rolls onto his side and leans down over him and Ray takes in a sharp breath.

"I wasn't," Mikey says, jerking back. "Ray, I wasn't going to bite--"

"I know," Ray says, reaching out for him, but Mikey's already up and standing ten feet away. "Mikey, I know you wouldn't do that."

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't."

"I know you thought I was just, like, but I wasn't. Even if I wanted to, even though you smell so fucking good and, fuck, the way you tasted was just, but I won't. I wouldn't."

"I already told you that I know," Ray says, getting to his feet. He can see just well enough to make out where Mikey's standing. "I smell good?" he asks as he moves forward.

"Not like food or anything," Mikey assures him. "Just like, um." He sighs miserably.

Ray reaches out and hooks his thumbs in Mikey's belt loops, tugs him forward. "I think you smell good, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." The wind picks up as they kiss, which Ray thinks is probably a coincidence and not an indication that Mikey can somehow control the weather. He doesn't want to stop kissing long enough to ask, anyway. Mikey's mouth is soft and his tongue is hot and slick and he fists his hands in Ray's hair as he presses closer.

When Ray shivers, Mikey says, "Come on," and takes his hand, leads him across the beach and up the stairs and back into the house. In the light of the kitchen, Ray can see that Mikey's mouth is swollen and his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright in the same sharp way they'd been the night he'd drunk from Ray's wrist. His fangs aren't visible, though, and Ray's not afraid. He lets Mikey lead him past the TV room and to the furthest bedroom down the hall.

"Compromise," Mikey says, turning on the closet light and leaving the door cracked so that Ray can see him. He's beautiful. His collarbones are sharp and his arms are strong and Ray just stares as he pulls his clothes off, lets his t-shirt and hoodie fall to the floor in a heap, unbuttons his jeans quickly and shoves them down his legs. He tugs the covers down and climbs onto the bed, then looks up at Ray and seems suddenly unsure. "Ray?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," Ray says, climbing onto the bed with him and leaning to kiss his ankle. He kisses his way up Mikey's calf, kisses his kneecap, slides his mouth up Mikey's thigh, feeling the soft hair against his lips. He kisses Mikey's hipbone and parts his lips to bite at it when he starts to laugh. Mikey's yanking at his sweatshirt, tugging it hard and getting Ray's arms and head caught in it for a moment before he can get himself free. "I was in the middle of something, there," Ray tells him.

Mikey sits up and yanks at Ray's belt buckle. "You weren't in the middle of getting naked, and that's what I want." Ray forgets his retort when Mikey shoves his jeans down and cups Ray's ass in his hands and whispers, "Yeah."

All Ray can do when Mikey kisses his stomach and slides his hands from Ray's ass to thighs and back up again is whisper, "Oh," and hold on to Mikey's shoulders for balance.

"Thought about this," Mikey whispers, tipping Ray over onto his back. He tugs his jeans off the rest of the way and tosses them behind him. "Imagined how it'd feel to have your legs wrapped around me, your fucking thighs squeezing me so tight."

Ray's only been fucked a few times, but he's willing. He parts his legs and tips his head back, hoping Mikey understands. Ray forgets how to talk during sex, but he thinks the way he's lying surrendered makes it clear that he's willing to do anything Mikey wants.

Mikey doesn't fuck him. Mikey stretches out on top of him and rubs their cocks together and pulls one of Ray's legs up around his waist. He kisses Ray again, winds his fingers through Ray's hair and kisses him slow and deep.

Ray moans into the kiss and arches up against him and slides his hands over Mikey's skin, touching everywhere he can reach. He's turned on and Mikey's cock rubbing against his feels so fucking good, but he's not in any hurry. He wants to kiss Mikey like this forever.

Mikey breaks off to breathe, presses his face to Ray's throat and Ray's entire body runs hot as he realizes that he wants Mikey to bite him. He wants to feel Mikey's fangs sinking into his flesh, wants to be the one to give Mikey what he needs. He can't say it, but he cups the back of Mikey's head in his hand and holds him there. Mikey kisses him instead, kisses his throat and sucks a mark into his skin before lifting his head up and kissing Ray's mouth.

Ray rolls them over and Mikey moans softly as Ray pins his wrists to the mattress. He doesn't struggle, but he strains against Ray's hold and hums happily when Ray shoves him back down. "Your fucking arms," Mikey says, turning his head so he can kiss the inside of Ray's wrist. "Your big fucking hands, so fucking hot."

"My what?" Ray asks, sitting back in surprise. Then he yelps as Mikey tackles him and climbs into his lap, laughing.

"These," Mikey says, grinning and taking one of Ray's hands in his. The press of Mikey's lips to Ray's palm sends a shiver through him. "Fucking sexy hands," he says, kissing Ray's fingertips.

Ray whimpers and rocks his hips up, cock dragging against Mikey's ass.

"Want to feel your hands all over me," Mikey says.

Ray can do that. Ray can run his hands up Mikey's chest and down his arms, can grip Mikey's hip in one hand and stroke his cock with the other and watch Mikey's gorgeous face as he closes his eyes and moans and rocks into Ray's touch.

"Close," Mikey whispers, his body curving forward. "So good."

Ray nods and doesn't say anything, just keeps watching Mikey's face and stroking him hard, biting his lip in anticipation. He wants to watch Mikey come even more than he wants to come himself.

Mikey starts bucking into Ray's fist and his breath is coming fast. Then he tips his head back and groans and Ray can see his fangs. Ray surges up for a kiss and he feels Mikey's teeth sink into his lower lip and he shudders and grinds up against Mikey's ass and comes. Then he collapses back and Mikey hits the bed next to him and they lie there breathing hard, sweaty bodies pressed together.

After a while, Mikey presses his fingers to Ray's mouth and whispers, "Fuck."

Ray kisses his fingers and lets his head fall to the side so he can see Mikey's face. He can taste blood in his mouth, but he doesn't mind.

"I didn't mean to," Mikey starts. "I didn't even know that I--"

"I did," Ray says. He's not as high on venom as he'd been the first time, but it's not just afterglow that makes him feel so good.

Mikey sighs, then props himself up to lick at Ray's mouth. Ray parts his lips for a kiss, but Mikey's not kissing him, Mikey's lapping at the cuts in his lip to close them and stop the bleeding.

"Don't be mad at me," Ray whispers, and the words come so easily he knows it has to be the venom in his bloodstream. "Don't be mad at me just because I like it."

"Like what?" Mikey asks softly. "That I'm a...? Is that what this is? You just wanted to fuck a vampire?"

"No," Ray says, rolling onto his side and running his hand over Mikey's chest. He nuzzles against Mikey's cheek and sighs when Mikey doesn't relax. "I like you so much," he says. "I'd like you no matter what. Don't be mad at me just because I like being able to give you something you need."

Mikey relaxes after a moment and turns to wrap his arm around Ray's waist. "You're an idiot."

Ray hums sleepily and reaches up for the pillows so they don't get cricks in their necks. Then he tugs the covers up over them and pulls Mikey into his arms.

Mikey huffs but lets Ray move him until his head is on Ray's chest, his leg draped over Ray's hips. "Such a fucking idiot," he mutters.

"An idiot who loves you," Ray says with a yawn. He feels Mikey tense in his arms, but he doesn't mind. He just waits and feels Mikey relax, feels Mikey cling to him and press his face to Ray's neck and breathe unsteadily. Ray rubs Mikey's back and he thinks he feels something damp against his skin, but he's so tired and feels so peaceful and he's tugged down into sleep before he can ask.

Ray wakes up to Frank leaning over him and coughing up a loogie.

"If you dangle a loogie over my face I swear to God I will end you," Ray grumbles.

"Spoil sport," Frank says. "Get your ass up. Trent's making crepes."

"Who's Trent?" Ray asks, sitting up and rubbing his face as he yawns.

"The guy who's letting us crash in his parents' mansion," Frank says. "And you know what? I'm not even going to ask why you're naked with a hickey on your neck in a strange bed that kind of smells like jizz."

Ray sighs and says, "Fuck." There's not a goddamn drop of venom in his system anymore and he's not nearly as calm about confessing his love as he had been the night before. "Pants," he says, reaching out for them.

Frank hands him his jeans and turns around to give Ray enough privacy to put them on. "Did you just have a really good night in here by yourself or...?"

"I thought you weren't going to ask," Ray says, buckling his belt and looking around for his sweatshirt. He finds it on the other side of the bed and has to spend a minute getting it turned right side out before he can put it on.

Ray's never had crepes before, but he decides he loves them. He has one filled with strawberries and whipped cream, then one with sliced ham and diced tomato and melty cheese, then one with Nutella and bananas that Trent's girlfriend dusts with powdered sugar. She insists that Nutella banana crepes are the best kind, and Ray kind of agrees.

Mikey's sitting on the other side of the table, leaning against Gerard and taking little bites of his crepes, but never getting one of his own. Ray tries not to think about how he'd made a total fool of himself and instead focuses on breakfast and the amazing coffee Trent serves.

They hit the road a little before noon, bellies full of the best food they've had all tour, travel mugs full of coffee, heading north to Baltimore.

"Apple core," Gerard says as Frank pulls the van onto the interstate. It's the beginning of a call and response Ray's heard him and Mikey do a hundred times, and it still doesn't make any sense.

"Baltimore," Mikey replies softly. He's got his hood up and his sunglasses on and he's curled up against Gerard's side in the middle seat.

"Who's your friend?"

"Me."

After a few minutes of silence, Mikey says, "Apple core," through a yawn.

"Baltimore," Gerard replies.

"Who's your friend?"

"Me!"

"If you fuckers do that the whole way to Baltimore I'm going to lose my mind," Otter says.

Gerard grins and sips his coffee, but he doesn't start it up again.

Ray twists around in his seat to get at his acoustic and sits in the back playing softly for a while. He tries to figure out what the apple core might mean, what it has to do with Baltimore and friends. By the time they pull up to the venue five hours before their set, he still has no idea.

It's more than an hour until sunset, so Mikey stays in the van. "Get us Twizzlers, fuckers," Gerard says as the rest of them pile out.

"Red Vines," Mikey corrects.

Gerard sighs. "Seriously? Twizzlers are clearly the superior red licorice."

"And you're clearly wrong in the head," Mikey says. He looks at Ray and says, "Red Vines?"

Ray says, "Yeah, of course." Then he climbs into the back seat and opens the cooler where they keep the blood.

"It's not like I'm going to forget," Mikey says with a sigh, holding his hand out for a bag.

"I'm going to warm this up," Ray says.

Mikey says, "What?"

Gerard tips his head down to hide his grin, but when he looks up at Ray through his bangs it's clear that he knows perfectly well that something had happened between Ray and Mikey the night before.

"I'm going to warm up your fucking dinner because you shouldn't ever have to eat cold macaroni and cheese, okay?"

"I told you it's fine--" Mikey starts, but Ray's already out of the van, tucking the bag of blood into his jacket pocket as he jogs across the street to the convenience store.

"Give me your knife," he says softly to Otter as he picks up one of the Styrofoam cups most everybody else fills with coffee.

Otter frowns but doesn't argue. He just takes his knife out of his pocket and keeps his hand over it as he sets it on the counter. Ray takes it from him and looks at Frank, "Distract the clerk," he says.

Frank says, "You know the whole demolition lovers thing is a metaphor, right, and that we're not actually, oh shit, that's blood."

Ray's glad the convenience store is empty except for the three of them and the bored teenage clerk. Frank ambles up to the front, buys a pack of rolling papers, and starts up a conversation with the clerk about the local music scene. Ray cuts one corner off the blood bag and hands the knife back to Otter, then pours the contents into the Styrofoam cup. He snaps a lid on it, then puts it in the microwave for a minute.

As the blood heats, Otter says, "Is possession of donated blood a crime or will people just think we're sick fucking freaks if they catch us with it?"

"Sick fucking freaks I think," Ray replies. "Do you think a minute's long enough?"

"Fuck if I know," Otter says. "How about next time you put it into a goddamn travel mug before you get out of the van?"

Ray says, "Huh." That actually makes a lot more sense. When the timer goes off, he takes the blood out of the microwave, pays the clerk for a cup of coffee, and heads across the street back to the van.

"Did you bring Twizzlers?" Gerard asks as Ray opens the side door.

Ray sighs and glares at him.

Gerard grins and says, "Fine, I'll get them myself." He pats Ray's arm on his way out of the van, which Ray takes as a good sign.

"I only put it in for a minute," Ray says, holding the Styrofoam cup out. "I figured lukewarm was better than burned, but I can go back and heat it up some more if you want."

Mikey takes it from him, sniffs it, then takes a sip. "Thanks," he says. "You didn't have to."

"I know. I wanted to."

Mikey nods and doesn't say anything else, just drinks and doesn't look over at Ray.

Ray sits next to him in silence for a while, working up the nerve to speak. Finally he says, "I didn't mean to make things weird between us. If you're not into me, that's fine. It sucks, but I'll get over it eventually. I won't hold it against you or anything." It hurts to say, but he has to let Mikey know that he doesn't need to feel obligated.

"You're such an idiot," Mikey says, reaching out to touch Ray's hair. "I'm so fucking into you."

"Yeah?" Ray asks.

Mikey nods. "Yeah. But you do stupid things and you take stupid chances. I get that this was, like, a gesture," he holds up the cup, "but what would you have done if somebody had caught you?"

"Otter pointed out that putting the blood into a coffee cup before getting out of the van would probably be a better idea than what I just did," Ray admits. He tips his head against Mikey's touch. "I meant what I said last night. I'm in love with you, and that means that I'm just going to want to take care of you. If I can do things to make sure you're not unhappy, I'm going to, and that includes warming your dinner up so it's not gross."

Mikey tips their foreheads together and says, "Okay. But I'm not going to bite you."

Ray leans forward until their mouths are less than an inch apart. "What if I want you to bite me?"

Mikey shakes his head. "I can't lose control. I can't hurt you."

"What if you don't bit me to feed? What if you're already full and you just, um, bite me for fun?" Ray's breath catches in his throat just thinking about it.

Mikey says, "Nope," and leans in for a kiss.

Ray thinks he'll be able to persuade Mikey eventually, once he's gotten used to having hot blood for every meal, once he's started to trust the thing that's building between them.

"Dude," Frank says as he pulls the side door open. "Are you guys fucking kissing? Are you kissing him after he just fucking ate _blood_? I'm going to puke."

Ray pulls away and Mikey's blushing and they're both laughing and yeah, okay, maybe he does need to wait until Mikey's done with dinner to kiss him because to him, blood doesn't taste like food, it just tastes gross, even from Mikey's lips.

"Are you guys going to make out all the time, now?" Frank asks, climbing into the far back seat.

Ray says, "No," and he feels his cheeks heating up. He has to work not to hunch his shoulders and let Frank see how embarrassed he is. He's not embarrassed for people to know he's with Mikey, but he's never felt entirely comfortable with public displays of affection.

"You're not going to fucking turn him, are you?" Frank asks, settling in. "Like, yeah, okay, fine, vampires, grrr, whatever, but if you turn him then he'll be all bitchy when he has to help me unload the trailer in the sunlight, and it's too much work for just me and Otter."

"I help," Gerard says, climbing into the passenger seat.

"You do not," Otter says. "You say you'll help and you carry two cymbals and then get distracted and wander off."

"I'm not turning him," Mikey says, and he sounds even more vehement than he had when he'd told Ray no biting.

"And no jerking each other off in the van," says Frank.

Ray can't help it, he curls forward and blushes and whispers, "Oh, my God."

"Can I suck him off in the van?" Mikey asks, laughing at whatever he sees on Frank's face.

Gerard says, "No talking about your sex life! Boundaries!"

"You've never had boundaries in your goddamn life!" Frank calls up at him.

Mikey reaches over and takes Ray's hand. He gives it a squeeze as Gerard and Frank start to bicker, strokes his thumb over the inside of Ray's wrist. When Ray looks over at him, Mikey offers him a small smile. Ray smiles back and laces their fingers together, brings Mikey's hand up and kisses his knuckles and doesn't even blush even though everyone can see.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Release the Bats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064592) by [argentumlupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine)




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